Children of the Shadows: Circle Game
by Kara
Summary: Puck didn't make it out in February of '09. But Manticore did let her out four years later...
1. Default Chapter

Children of the Shadows: Blaze of Glory  
  
By Kara  
  
Disclaimer: Alas, poor X-5s, I loved them well, but Mr. Cameron owns them, and he treats them like hell. If he'd like to loan them to me on a weekly basis though…  
  
Rating: Pgish  
  
Spoilers: None, Pre-series fic  
  
A/N: Part of the Children of the Shadows series (http://www.roswellunderground.com/shadows/childrenoftheshadows.html). This will probably be a weird one, and a longer one. I'll keep you posted.  
  
1 And the seasons they go round and round  
  
And the painted ponies go up and down  
  
We're captive on a carousel of time  
  
We can't return, we can only look  
  
Behind from where we came  
  
And go round and round and round on a circle game.  
  
--Circle Game, author unknown  
  
2  
  
3 February, 2009  
  
The remaining X-5s were slowly being brought back to the base. Thirteen were still unaccounted for, and as Colonel Lydecker examined the list of barcodes yet to be found, he found it harder and harder to keep calm. It wasn't enough that thirteen made it to the perimeter fence and beyond. Those thirteen included the best and most promising of the X-5 class, at this facility, or the Seattle facility.  
  
"Colonel Lydecker, we found another one." Turning towards the soldier, Lydecker noticed the limp body of one more X-5. Twelve made it out, then. Pulling up the neck of the scrubs the X-5 wore, he recognized the face of 599, Zack. The C.O. had sacrificed himself so that his soldiers might make it out alive. That meant that 452 and 210 were definitely among the ones who escaped. Knowing Zack and all his idiosyncrasies, the entire escape might've been staged to save 452's life.  
  
"Thank you, soldier. Put him in solitary and let me know as soon as he wakes up." More X-5s were being brought in now, all in various stages of struggle. "How many casualties now?"  
  
"Four, sir." The soldier in front of him swallowed, looking at the bound X- 5 he carried with fear and distaste. "And three of ours." As was to be expected.  
  
"They aren't children, Private. It isn't as if you were never told." Out of the twenty-three alive at the beginning of the evening, twelve were AWOL and four dead. That left seven remaining, half of whom were injured in some way. Maybe it was time to relocated these X-5s to the Seattle facility and reintroduce the groups. It would be interesting to see how the different training tactics affected the seven from Gillette. It would also be interesting, considering that the Seattle series contained 494, twin of his own 493. Reindoctrination would have to be a delicate operation to ensure that the seven Gillette X-5s didn't attack 494. It was enough that Renfro's group were trained for solo missions and solidarity. Competition was so fierce that the Seattle X-5s were already separated two to a barrack cell. It could prove interesting…  
  
The last X-5 was dragged in, kicking and shrieking with all the soldier's might. Lydecker recognized the soldier as 391, one of the second year X- 5s. She wasn't a brilliant soldier, and he was still questioning the geneticists decision to give the soldier what would be flaming red hair once it grew out. She usually followed at the heels of 493 like a dog. The soldier had potential, but 599 had never paid her much attention. It happened to some of the smaller, less brilliant ones. Puck was what one of the nurses had named her, one of the two that didn't have to name themselves. Tawny's name was obvious enough. Flack in the wards was that 632's surrogate had actually named him, the only time she saw him. 632 was also the last X-5 to be left with his surrogate for the first night.  
  
"Private Johnson. Let me take this one." The private dropped the bound X- 5 in the snow, saluting and running off so quickly that Lydecker was almost tempted to send 391 after the man. 391 only glared at him from where she lay in the snow, still struggling to free herself. This soldier had the same fierceness that 210 often exhibited. She'd faced solitary three times already for disobeying orders, and she had a tendency to take the blame for 493's failings. She was good at hunting and tracking, and had excelled at E&E almost as much as 452 and 210. Properly cultivated, he could make use of these talents…  
  
"Puck."  
  
The girl stopped struggling, her gray eyes widening in fear. Lydecker knew how hard the kids tried to keep their names a secret, but they became too trusting at night. They regarded their barracks as a safe haven. He knew about their antics, and even about their trips to the roof. But every guard and Watcher was under strict orders not to make any move on the X-5s while they were in their barracks. It was a fascinating way to study the culture they had developed among themselves, even though repeated mention of a blue lady still had Psy-Ops mystified.  
  
Lydecker knelt in the snow, careful to keep his hands visible at all times as he picked 391 up and set her on her feet. "Puck," he said again, careful to keep his voice pitched low. "They left you behind, didn't they?"  
  
391 nodded slowly, eyes still distrusting. She had always been one of the X-5s operating on the fringe of the squadron, never quite fitting into the tightly-bound network the soldiers formed.  
  
"493 left without saying goodbye, didn't he?" Again, the slow nod. 391 was small for her almost eleven years. She never seemed to have the emotional maturity that some of the others had, like 656. Puberty hadn't yet set in, but there were enough hormonal surges running through her body that Lydecker knew her emotions were still unstable. If he played this just right… "I have a special job for you, Puck. You're going to be my aide now." Given the right training and the right resources, and 391 might be the answer to the Council's questions about recapturing the rogue X-5s. 


	2. Chapter 2: 2013

2013  
  
391 stared at the walls of her barracks. Lydecker was gone again. Whenever the Colonel went out to survey the other facility, her training was left in the hands of TAC leaders and the oldest X-4s. On good days, the TAC officers let her drill the X-6s, even though that usually left her frustrated and angry. It wasn't the sixers' fault that their genes were dumbed down. Everyone knew it. Well, she wasn't supposed to know it, but as Lydecker's aide, she picked up these things occasionally. After her supposed brothers and sisters abandoned their posts four years ago, the geneticists had immediately begun gene therapy on the sixers. Flack from the guard had it that her class was too independent and too loyal to their own squad. So fucking loyal that they left her behind… She'd never forgive 493 for that. It was acceptable from 599, since he never saw anyone but 452 in the first place, but 493--Ben…  
  
Someone approached the steel door that kept her bound to her cell. When the Colonel was on base, 391 had the freedom to follow him everywhere. A few years ago, one of the guards had called her Deck's Duckling. Beating that soldier within an inch of his life had given her the greatest sense of satisfaction since the time she trounced 452 in a training session. One of the night guard's favorite words always came to mind when she thought about the sisters who left her--skanky bitches. They could've tried harder to get her out. 599 could've taken her with him when he hopped the fence the night of the Pulse. It wouldn't have taken much.  
  
391 already stood at attention by the time the guard opened the door. The guard looked at her with distaste, the same way that everyone else did. Everyone knew she was part of the traitor X-5 class, as much as she tried to prove otherwise. Her association with the Colonel didn't help either. He personally oversaw her training when he was at Manticore. He'd even taken her with him once to the other facility near Seattle. That ended the moment she tried to snap 494's neck. It wasn't her fault that she wasn't debriefed on the fact that the brother who betrayed her had a twin.  
  
"X-5391. The Colonel requests your presence." The guard didn't even bother hiding the sneer on his face. She heard whispers of what the guards said sometimes, something about Lydecker going pedophile. She'd picked up a little of the vernacular from the various guards stationed in front of her cell, but that wasn't a word she felt comfortable asking about. The last time she'd asked for the meaning of a word, she'd worn the resulting bruise for a week.  
  
As she followed the guard down the hallway, 391 had to force herself not to look into the windows of the barracks. For some reason, the guard was taking her the long way to the Colonel's office, not the usual side corridor that took her from her tiny cell to the tiny cell Lydecker called an office. As they passed by the X-8 barracks and made their way to the main conference room, 391 knew something was suspicious. But soldiers didn't ask questions of their superiors, even if their superiors were idiots.  
  
The guard ushered her into the conference room, shutting the door behind her. 391 stood at attention, saluting the Colonel and other high-ranking members of the Council that sat around the table. She could feel their eyes on her. Few bothered to hide their incredulous looks.  
  
"This is your answer, Deck?" Renfro, Director of the Seattle facility, actually stepped forward and circled around 391. 391 had to clench her fists to keep calm, something that wasn't lost on the blond woman. "This is the one who attacked 494, isn't it? She has more of an attitude problem than the really little one that caused all the problems. 210?"  
  
Lydecker nodded in affirmation. "X-5391 has been undergoing special training in location and retrieval. Psy-Ops cleared her for solo four months ago."  
  
Renfro looked at 391 again. The older woman actually smiled. It wasn't the nice smile 391 remembered the Watchers wearing when she was little, but it was still a smile. She had to fight the urge to smile back. She was only allowed to smile at Lydecker, and only then on the rare occasion that he smiled at her first.  
  
"So, you've got a lead on the others, Deck?" Director Renfro took her place at the table again, folding her hands in her lap. "If you fail again…"  
  
The Colonel set a folder on the table, spreading photos across the top. Angling her head, 391 could see headshots of her brothers and sisters as they'd been four years ago, before they escaped. Scattered among the pictures were more recent shots, some of familiar barcodes on the backs of necks.  
  
"599 aka Michael Hanover. Booked for armed robbery in Santa Fe in May of '10." Lydecker's fingers paused at another picture, this time of a girl with light brown hair and blue eyes. "210 aka Jenny Peters. Accused of horse theft about 300 miles west of here. Last scene heading towards California." And a third picture. "452 aka Maxine Montoya. Placed with the Redding family just outside of Cody in March of '09. Reported missing two days after the Pulse." The Colonel shuffled the papers back together, shoving them back into the folder. "We have traces, Director Renfro. There's even a lead from Houston. Two boys have been identified in a series of gun heists. Apparently, they've been stealing guns from hunting supply stores in Harris County."  
  
"And 391 is your solution?" Renfro turned her sneer towards 391 again, and she took an immediate dislike to the woman.  
  
391 tensed, her hands clenching into fists again. The Colonel's hand rested briefly on her shoulder. "I've scored higher than any other X-5 on all of my training battery, Director Renfro ma'am," she answered, careful to keep her voice level the way Colonel Lydecker taught her. "Sgt. Herrick reported that he'd never seen a soldier beat the clock on the standard reconnaissance training, ma'am. I even beat 494." She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at the older woman. "Ma'am."  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, 391 noticed a slight smile cross the Colonel's face before it faded. Director Renfro pressed her lips together and stared at 391 again. 391 resisted the urge to shift in place. She stood straight ahead, meeting Renfro's cold blue eyes. The old woman didn't scare her. No one scared her. Not even the nomalies in the basement…  
  
"Your job, Deck. The Council will give you a chance, but…"  
  
After the others filed out of the room, the Colonel bent down to meet 391's eyes. He put his hand on her shoulder, something he rarely did. "You understand the mission, Puck? This is what we've been training you for. You've got the right skills, and all the preparation we could give you."  
  
391 nodded slowly. The mission was to find her brothers and sisters and bring them back for reindoctrination. "I understand, sir. I won't let you down."  
  
"I don't think you will, 391. I don't think you will."  
  
Two days later, 391 found herself on a train to Houston. An X-4 would shadow her the whole way, and Lydecker would remain in contact via cell phone. It felt odd to face the world. Her hair was free for once, instead of pulled back in its regulation braid. Her new blue jeans felt stiff as she shifted her weight, and the knit hat one of the Watchers jammed over her eyes blocked her view.  
  
"Can I see your ticket, hon?"  
  
She looked up at the older woman, startled. "Yes, ma'am," 391 managed to say as she fumbled for her ticket.  
  
"Robin, huh? That's a pretty name, hon." The woman punched her ticket, handing it back to 391. "On your way to see family?"  
  
391 nodded. "Yes, ma'am. My two brothers."  
  
The woman's face brightened. "Best of luck to you, dear."  
  
Luck wouldn't help her. The mission's success depended on how well she performed and utilized her training. She had to make the Colonel proud, and prove once and for all that his faith in her was justified. But most of all, she had to make her brothers and sisters pay… 


	3. Almost, But Not Quite

"Houston Station! Houston Station!" The crackle of the loud speaker woke 391 from her meditation. She hadn't bothered sleeping. None of the X- series needed as much sleep as norms did, and 391 had no idea what freaks might try to sneak up on her while she was prone. X-4721 sat three rows back, watching over her, but she doubted he'd do a thing to protect her if her life wasn't in danger. They were all multi-million dollar resources, but none of the Fours had ever liked her. Few of the Sixers did either.  
  
She carefully placed all of her paperwork back into the folder that the Colonel had provided. It was easy enough to gather her one pack and follow the crowds out onto the station. The weather was warm compared to the snow that covered the training ground in Gillette. 391 fought the urge to unbutton her coat and stuff her hat in her pocket.  
  
Nothing at Manticore had prepared her for the bustle of a city. Even the sims that the Colonel ran her through in the past few months didn't compare. People jostled her left and right, most of them standing heads and heads above her own average height. For the first time in a long time, 391 felt her stomach turn, just like when the nomaly had grabbed Syl in the basement.  
  
"Are you lost, little girl?" Someone grabbed her arm, and 391 resisted throwing him over her shoulder to the ground. A pleasant enough face bent towards hers, the voice pitched louder to cut through the noise of the crowd. "Do you need a ride, hon? If you're lost…"  
  
391 wrinkled her nose, tugging her arm out of the man's grip. Something about his scent was funny, and his eyes seemed to have a glassy look to them. It was the same look some of the guards gave her sometimes, one that frightened her more than thoughts of the nomalies did. "No, sir! I'm meeting my brother, sir." But before she could duck back into the crowd, the man grabbed her again.  
  
"No, you're obviously lost, honey. Let me take you someplace safe so that you can get your bearings." The feverish light in his eyes brightened.  
  
"Robin! I was looking for you." 391 found herself in the arms of 721, her X-4 shadow. "I was so worried, little sister." 391 let herself go limp as 721 hugged her, something no one had done since her siblings went AWOL. "Thanks for finding my sister, sir. I was worried that Dad let her come all the way from Washington alone." 721 rattled on, one arm firmly hooked around her waist. As they moved back from the platform towards the parking lot, his grip on her eased up a bit. 391 was impressed by the way he handled the crowds, neatly slicing through, carefully smiling at anyone he bumped into. 721 was one of the oldest of the Fours. She was surprised that the Colonel sent him as her shadow for this mission. The mission almost seemed like an insult to 721's capabilities.  
  
"Bad move, 391," 721 muttered in her ear, cuffing her on the side of the head under the pretense of straightening her hat. "Why the hell did Lydecker send you on this mission? You're just going to screw the whole thing up. Deck's too lax with you Fivers. Just because you're his favorites."  
  
"Yessir," 391 muttered. Maybe she wasn't as prepared for this mission as she'd originally thought.  
  
"Did the Colonel give you a base of operations?"  
  
391 nodded. "Yessir. I'm to stay in an old dorm at the University. The Colonel said that no one would bother a girl there, since most of the Pulse Orphans ended up moving in after the college was abandoned."  
  
721 gave her a slight shove towards the parking lot. "Check in at 2030 hours. If you hit star 2 on the cell, you'll be able to get in contact with me." And with a slight tap to her face that could have been interpreted as either a slap or a caress, he disappeared again.  
  
She moved towards Bagby Street. If the Colonel's directions were correct, the University wasn't even a mile away. Eyeing the crowd about her, 391 noticed others not much older than she was hanging about the outskirts of the station. Quick hands sometimes slipped into the pockets and purses of the well-to-do that dared take public transportation. One dirty girl sent her a challenging glare, daring her to say something about the wallet the girl had clutched in one fist. The girl was too thin to be any real threat, normalness aside. 391 was small for a transgenic, but she was still faster, smarter, and stronger than any of these filthy norms. She only shot the street girl the same look of disdain 721 had given her moments before, and felt a twinge of satisfaction as the girl almost wilted under the look. Her chin held high, 391 walked towards the University, not bothering to hide the fact that she knew she could kick the ass of anyone there, and would enjoy it.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Lia! Little sister, I'm home!" Tawny juggled grocery bags as he kicked the door to their apartment shut. The front room was empty, meaning Syl was either in the bedroom, tinkering again, or she'd gone out. He didn't like it when she went out alone. With her hair just long enough to cover her barcode, and enough clothes to hide the fact that her skinny body was female, his little sister was as safe as any of the kids on the street. And it wasn't like she could take down anyone that attacked her. But he still worried. "Lia? Doko desu ka?"  
  
"Asoko, Nee-chan" came Syl's voice from the bedroom. The door opened, and his little sister emerged, smeared with some kind of black powder. It looked like she'd finished her homework early again.  
  
Syl's small nose wrinkled up. "You had sex again. You get any money this time?" She tugged on his shirt, pulling him towards the bathroom. "The teacher handed out more soap this time, and Jer and I figured out how to rig the hot water heater to get more than our allowance, so you can actually take a real shower for once."  
  
Setting down the groceries, Tawny made his way to the bathroom, carefully stepping over Syl's latest contraption that sat in the middle of the bedroom floor. To his experienced eye, it looked like it would perform whatever function Syl intended it to. His little sister had shown an affinity for anything electronic and explosive since she was small. She and Zane had made a bad-ass destruction team at Manticore.  
  
"I didn't get paid, but I got some oranges. Alexa has a brother who owns some fruit trees out near Spring." He tossed his clothes in the hamper in the corner of the bedroom. It was almost time to do laundry again. If Syl rigged the hot water heater, then they might actually be able to wash their clothes in hot water for once… "There's some milk in there too. Put it in the ice box if you can, Lia."  
  
"If you're gonna sell yourself, at least get more than oranges." From beyond the open bathroom door, Tawny could see Syl now perched on her bunk. "The teacher says--"  
  
"The teacher doesn't have a shitty job that barely pays enough to keep herself and her growing sister alive," Tawny reminded her through the doorway, turning on the water in the shower. "We're lucky that people actually buy the fact that I'm eighteen." Zane had that problem with Krit sometimes. He still wasn't exactly sure why Zack had assigned Syl to him that night, since she probably would've been better off with another one of the girls. Maybe it was because Syl lost Eva the same way Tawny lost Jack. And splitting Tinga and Brin or Max and Jondy up would've been a real crime. His little sister was still too skinny to look like much of a female, and it seemed like she hadn't quite hit puberty. So there wasn't too much trouble yet…  
  
"At least you don't have to go to classes every day." Even over the sound of running water, he could hear the scorn in Syl's voice. He knew how bored she was, forcing to review things they'd learned when they were six years old. But some old college professor offered to give lessons to some of the Pulse Orphans living in the dorms, and since Syl still looked like she was twelve or thirteen, she'd gotten dragged into attending classes.  
  
"At least you don't have to lay cable every day." Part of the city's restoration project was putting every able-bodied man to work. Tawny probably could've gotten in with the police volunteers or something, but that seemed like a nice little one-way ticket back to Manticore. And he had to keep Syl safe for as long as he could. At least telecom duty gave him a good look at some of the old neighborhoods of the city in case he decided to relief some of the still wealthy families of their unnecessary possessions. And telecom was something he'd excelled in, back at Manticore.  
  
Tawny couldn't hear any noise coming from the bedroom. He turned off the water and quickly toweled off. Zack would be proud that he was still so efficient. But you had to be. There was only so much water to go around in the old dorm, and everyone knew exactly how much water you used.  
  
"Is it that bad, Lia? Do you want me to hunt down Zane and pull a switch for a while?" He shrugged into an old pair of sweats before kneeling down beside her on the floor as she fiddled with some old VCR parts.  
  
Syl shook her head, eyes still focused on her screwdriver and mini soldering iron. "We're clean and warm, and sometimes we even have food, so it's not that bad," she muttered. Her blue eyes looked up to meet his. "It's not the Good Place, but it'll do. We aren't on the street anymore."  
  
Those three years on the street had probably been the hardest. Tawny still felt guilty sometimes for pulling Syl out of her foster home, but the look of betrayal she'd shot him as he walked away had haunted him for days. And he'd never forget how tightly Syl clung to him when he finally appeared at her window eight nights later. And he was never her favorite brother either.  
  
"I'm sorry, Lia. You know that, right?" Syl's blue eyes dropped again, and she stared at the burn in the carpet. "Syl?"  
  
She looked up again, flashing him a brief, blinding smile that he rarely saw anymore. Syl reached out and hugged him hard for one moment before preoccupying herself with her electronics again. For a little while, he saw the girl his sister had been before she shot Ani on that one mission. Only Krit and Eva had been able to get a smile out of her for the longest time, and then Lydecker took down Eva…  
  
"If you wanna start cooking, I traded that cell phone battery for some rice," his little sister offered as she booted up the computer in the corner. The battered old machine was barely functional, but it gave him and Syl access to what records the dorms kept on the occupants that lived there. Some wealthy family had probably imported it from Europe after the Pulse.  
  
"Want orange chicken? I've still got some pieces left over from two nights ago." They usually had food now days. There were some rough moments over the past few years, and Syl was still too skinny for her own good, but they were surviving. Tawny only hoped the others were doing as good.  
  
"Jer ate the chicken for lunch today. He gave his rations to May yesterday because they were short this week." Syl's fingers flew across the keyboard. "Neechan--"  
  
"Yeah, Lia?" Tawny peered over her shoulder. "So Andrew's place has been filled. Kids come and go all the time."  
  
"Not in 48 hours. It took us a week to get cleared for this place," Syl reminded him, rolling her blue eyes. "Look at who the clearance came from."  
  
Tawny scrolled through the text on the screen quickly. "Shit. Renfro? Who's this E. Renfro person? I thought Reverend Thomas ran this place."  
  
Syl pushed back her desk chair and began gathering her tool kit up into its bag. "Bailing again?"  
  
"Might as well be careful. Might not be for us, but you know how bad they want us back." And Tawny knew how badly he wanted to stay out of Manticore. "Maybe we can crash with Zane and Krit for a while. I think they're staying out in Tyler or something." He shoved some clothes into a duffle bag, and then moved into the front room to get what food they had out of the small fridge. "If we unload the lift from two nights ago, we could get that bike."  
  
He was surprised to hear Syl laugh as she followed him into the front room. He almost couldn't remember the last time he heard her laugh. "You just want a red motorcycle like the one Priss has."  
  
Tawny reached out to smack her lightly. "Sorry I forced you to watch all those episodes of Bubble Gum Crisis, Lia-chan. Know how much you hate all that anime crap." He smirked at her as she started tossing her own clothes from the laundry basket into a bag.  
  
Syl stuck her tongue out. "You made me watch the original and 2040. At least it was educational and a lot more fun learning Japanese that way then from the TAC leaders at Manticore. Ready?"  
  
Hoisting the two bags to his shoulders, Tawny held out his hand to Syl. She hadn't even minded when he started calling her Lia, after Syllia in Bubble Gum Crisis. "Ready, Lia-chan."  
  
One more city to cross off their list. But at least they managed to keep ahead of the Colonel one more time. It only took one close call…  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Hi, my name's Robin Edgecombe. There's supposed to be a room here for me?" 391 held out the slip of paper that the Colonel had given to her. The man behind the desk studied the paper for a moment before handing it back.  
  
"Your room is all set up, Robin. Rations are handed out at the beginning of the week, and you'll be put on a rotating chore roster along with the other youngsters." Reverend Thomas, as his name plate stated, placed a key into 391's hand. "Since your paperwork tells me that you've just turned fifteen, classes will be mandatory for you mornings Monday through Thursday. Beyond that, if you want to try to get a job, clear it with Dr. Johnson on the second floor. And no illegal activities."  
  
391 nodded. The man might wear what the Common Verbal Usages trainers always called priest's collars, but he still didn't seem much different than the TAC leaders back at Manticore.  
  
"Any questions, Robin?" Reverend Thomas' eyes said he was only asking to be polite.  
  
"Just one, sir." Keeping her hands behind her back in at ease position, Robin dropped her eyes as the Colonel had taught to give the older man a properly deferential look. He motioned for him to continue. "Two of my foster brothers are supposed to be staying here. I think their names changed, but one of them might've been Ben or Zane. They're around my age." Assuming that everyone stayed together the way Zack paired them off, the fact that two of her brothers might be living here at least narrowed down who it could be. Ben and Jet were supposed to be still together, and Krit and Zane. Eri had been her partner, but he'd split as soon as they reached the perimeter fence.  
  
The Reverend gave her a thoughtful look before pulling out a ledger and flipping through it. "We have a few sibling pairs here, but the closest ones to your age are the Yoshidas in 5C. Tony swears he's 18, but I have my doubts. But Tony's here with his stepsister, not his brother."  
  
"Stepsister?" Tawny was dumb enough to take a name close to his own.  
  
Reverend Thomas nodded. "Lia Yoshida. Skinny little thing. Brilliant with electronics. She fixed our database here." He pointed to the computer in the corner. "You know them?"  
  
"The names sound familiar," 391 answered cautiously. "Is their room near mine, sir? I'd like to stop and introduce myself on the way."  
  
"Right down the hall from you, Robin. I'm sure Tony and Lia would love more company. I think Lia gets lonely during the day, since her brother works so hard." The Reverend smiled at her and showed her to the door. "Welcome to our little safe haven, Miss Edgecombe."  
  
But when 391 stopped by 5C, no one answered her knock at the door. When she leaned in to listen closer, she couldn't discern any sounds coming from within the room. With a look to make sure no one was around, she make quick work of the lock. The door opened easily, revealing a small front room and a bedroom beyond. It looked recently occupied, but a quick search of the drawers and fridge revealed a hasty retreat. "Shit," she muttered, a word she usually heard from the TAC leaders when the Sixers didn't pick up on the lesson the first time.  
  
391 stood in the middle of the room for a long time. This had been the first real lead Manticore had on her brothers and sisters in a long time, and if she failed the Colonel…she didn't want to think about the consequences. Three weeks in Solitary wouldn't seem so bad compared to what they could do.  
  
Reaching into her pocket for the cell phone, 391 punched in the star key and held her finger poised over the 2. This was her last chance to prove herself to the Colonel, and her last chance to make her siblings pay for not trying harder to remember her.  
  
They couldn't have gone too far. And she always had excelled at Escape and Evade. 


End file.
